#do you know how insane it is that we can just take medication that tells our bodies 'grow breasts' or 'grow facial hair' and our bodies jusy

[mister13eyond]

I think people in general would be less weird about gender and trans people if it were just made more clear how incredibly artificial the idea of a human sexual dichotomy really is

External genitalia is the same basic structures configured in slightly different ways, and it's less of a binary set of options than a spectrum between two poles as intersex people fully prove

Secondary sex characteristics are entirely dependent on hormones, which means they a.) already have a wide variety of natal presentations across genders (ex cis women capable of growing facial hair, cis men with breast tissue etc are all completely normal (if slightly uncommon) outcomes) and b.) Are extremely easy to change with HRT

Hormones can affect PHYSICAL reactions to emotions (higher testosterone making anger an easier physical reaction to stress than tears, and higher estrogen vice versa) but it doesn't actually affect the ways you think about or react to things, just what your body does with that emotion.

Social and behavioral differences are EXTREMELY affected by nurture more so than nature and there are no inherent neurological differences between men and women's brains.

Our bodies are so similar to one another that transition- while socially and financially potentially difficult- is MEDICALLY incredibly fucking easy. The fact that we can just alter our secondary sex characteristics with medications and our external genitalia with fairly simple surgeries should be a clue how incredibly close all human bodies are? We Have the possibility to change so easily because there are not inherent, hardwired unmovable differences. The only real difference at this point is the capability to carry and birth children, and with the way science is going that doesn't seem like an impossible breakthrough at this point.

Idk, I'm so tired of seeing discourse from other trans people that upholds that there are fundamental differences between men and women. Until we all start agreeing that these categories are artificially enforced and that they aren't really biologically inherent whatsoever we're never going to get anywhere

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[themultifanshipper]

Max stormed through the halls of the ER, fuming at the stupidity of his teammate.

He was going to fucking kill Checo.

Warnings: driver!reader, smut, PinV sex, injury, mention of strong ass medication, public sex?, sex in a hospital bed what more do you want from me

The door of your room slamming open startled you as Max walked in with a scowl.

"Jesus Max calm down-“

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “That idiot put you in the fucking hospital and caused two other people to crash. I'm going to kill him when I see him!”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

You didn't have any broken bones, thank god, but your entire body was covered in deep bruising.

It was extremely painful and they'd given you some very strong painkillers and a plethora of other medication that hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so you weren’t really in the mood for Max's yelling.

He noticed your pained expression and immediately calmed down, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his.

“I'm sorry schat, I'm just so angry… How bad is it?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Nothing broken, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner” you joked weakly.

He whined and lay his head on your shoulder and you winced, so he pulled back and stroked your thigh tenderly.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Is there anywhere I can touch you where it doesn't hurt?”

You smirked, mind in the gutter, as usual “You always know where to touch me to make me feel good, Max…”

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Go on baby, touch me wherever and I'll tell you if it hurts or not”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively and Max tried to swallow, his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Perhaps whatever they'd given you was finally starting to kick in.

And evidently, it wasn't just getting rid of the pain, it was making you insanely horny. Like… abnormal levels of horny. You hadn’t realized when you were alone, but the sight of Max in front of you was getting you very hot and bothered.

“Come on Max, touch me, I need it so bad…”

Your hand slowly slid up his denim covered thigh and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Baby we can't” he gasped and got a hold of your wrist just before you got to the crotch of his jeans “We're in a hospital and you're badly injured…”

You were giving him your best (albeit a bit droopy) puppy dog eyes.

“And you are on drugs, my love”

You tried to sit up but your whole body protested so you stayed down, tugging at his shirt and pawing at his thick thighs.

“Please Max, fuck it's been so long, I need you inside me now”

It really had been a while. Between the races, your respective factory business was in entirely different countries, so you rarely had time to indulge in anything more than quickies and facetime debauchery.

Max was rapidly crumbling under your heated gaze (and your goddamn paws touching every bit of him you could reach) and his resolve didn't last long as he started going through ways to make this possible.

With every passing moment, your pain was decreasing and the heat between your legs was only getting worse as you whined at him to make you feel good.

He slowly stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over you, careful to avoid putting any weight on you.

As your body was uncovered bit by bit, he felt the anger come back, and then a wave of nausea took over.

There was barely any unblemished skin on your body, most of it coloured in various shades of yellow, purple and blue bruising.

He spread your legs and kneeled between them, running his fingers up the inside of your thighs and stopped just short of where you were almost dripping onto the sheets.

“Jesus baby, you really need me, huh?”

You whimpered pathetically and grabbed his hand to press it against you and rut against it desperately just for some relief.

The sight of you writhing and whimpering under him was overwhelming, and it didn't take long for him to line himself up and start pushing into you slowly.

Every time was like the first time with Max.

He held you in his arms, making sure you were okay as he split you open, burying inside you tight heat that seemed to be molded just for him.

You were drowsy from the painkillers but you felt every inch, every vein caress your walls as he dragged his cock in and out of you desperately.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hips rolled against yours in a slow rhythm, almost maddeningly so.

He went so deep, bumping your cervix on every slide in, and you let out low moans every time, matching his growls. You tugged harder on his hair while he nipped gently at your neck, cautious of where the seatbelt had bruised it.

His back muscles rippled under your touch and your eyes rolled back, the euphoria soon washing over your body in waves.

As soon as you started clenching around him, Max knew he was a goner. He'd missed the feeling so much, he quickly filled you up, shooting rope after rope deep inside you.

Once he was done, he rolled to the side so that he could lie down next to you but keep you in his arms as you stayed tangled together, sharing a passionate kiss.

“Fuck baby, I love you so much” you said, nails scratching at his scalp while he pressed kisses to your skin.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, making sure to not put any weight on you in the process. “I love you too schat, you have no idea how scared I was, seeing them cart you off in in an ambulance while I was stuck in the paddock doing fucking interviews…”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns over his skin. “I’m here now, Max. And I’ll be fine.”

Max looked up at you with a smile.

“I know… but I’m still going to fucking kill Checo”

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

You may notice I frequently comment on the assumptions people make about animal facilities based on their branding. Frequently, people assume accredited facilities are inherently better for animals than unaccredited facilities, or assume sanctuaries are inherently more moral / better at caring for their animals than zoos.

I want to show you an example of why I am always, always skeptical of these assumptions.

If you’re in the California area, you might have heard about Hank the Tank - who is actually a Henrietta, btw - the 500 pound nuisance bear from Lake Tahoe who broke into 21 homes in search of food. She was recently captured by wildlife officials and moved to a sanctuary in Colorado. The Wild Animal Sanctuary has three main facilities, two in Colorado and one in TX. To give you some context, it’s the biggest carnivore sanctuary in the country - they advertise somewhere between 300-500 animals, mostly large carnivores, between their properties. It’s where most of the Tiger King cats went. It’s PETA’s preferred placement for confiscated exotic animals. So, obviously, it’s got to be great, right? Except… take a look at what they posted about Henrietta’s arrival.

Here’s their post about Henrietta’s arrival at the Refuge, the large facility in Colorado that isn’t open to the public. Let’s take a closer look at that food trough…

What do we see here? An entire rotisserie chicken that is either blackened or highly seasoned, and a whole ham. Maybe a second chicken underneath the pile, I can’t quite tell. The sanctuary gets the majority of their bear food donated from groceries stores once it’s past the sell-by date, so we know those are older meats and they’re full of a ton of salt. Then, for fruit and veg, there’s a cantaloupe, mango, corn, avocado, grapes, and apples. Maybe a pepper or two, it’s hard to tell. That’s a lot of sugar and not a lot of fiber or roughage.

But… on top of it and to the right… are those Twizzlers?

Yes.

The sanctuary confirmed on Facebook that they fed this recently rescued obese bear what looks like almost an entire pack of Twizzlers.

I don’t know of any world in which it’s appropriate to feed candy to a bear. Maybe a piece or two as a really high value reinforcer for hard behaviors (that isn’t relevant here, it’s openly against this sanctuary’s ethos to do any husbandry or medical training). An entire pack of Twizzlers is just appalling. But it’s not uncommon for this facility! I have a book written about their operations and animal care (that I bought at their gift shop this spring) which openly discusses how the bears get fed bread, doughnuts, marshmallows, and all sorts of incredibly unhealthy food that comes in with the grocery donations.

But hey, this is apparently fine for the bears, according to the sanctuary’s founder. He was quoted in that same book as saying “Bears are the only animal I know of that can eat insane amounts of sugar and it never hurts them. It does not hurt their organs. They do not get clogged arteries. They do not have high blood pressure. In the wild they eat all these sweet berries in the fall, and they convert sugar to fat… so the more sugar they get the better… we would all love to have a system like that!”

Now while it’s true that bears have physiological adaptations that modulate their insulin production and sensitivity in ways that appear to prevent them from from developing diabetes, that does’t mean it’s healthy for them to regularly eat processed carbohydrates, sugar, and general junk food. And remember - Henrietta gained her fame because of how incredibly overweight she already is, and because she was seeking out human food, According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, a healthy weight for a normal adult black bear is between 100-300 pounds. So, obviously, the best thing to do is… continue to feed her candy.

Then, later on in the book, it details how they have to bribe a camel to sit tight for a regular medical examination (since they don’t train for medical behaviors) by letting him drink a can of Mountain Dew each time.

If a zoo was known publicly to be feeding their animals Mountain Dew or a couple Twizzlers - even just once, on a rare occasion - they’d be eviscerated in the media and by public opinion. But feeding out inappropriate junk food appears to be a pretty common practice at this place, and it just goes unscrutinized because everyone assumes sanctuaries are inherently better for animals.

So, long story short, never make assumptions about the quality of a facility based on it’s branding or accreditation. (TWAS is accredited by the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries). If you have concerns about the ethics or practices of a facility, always try to put your preconceptions aside, go and see for yourself, and think critically about what you see and what you’re told.

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1) (part 8/end)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

[maniacwatchestheworld]

Things to do with Jack and Maddie without them being abusive

As someone who actually likes Jack and Maddie as characters (I'm a fervent shipper of Maddie/Jack/Vlad), it's a real bummer to see so many people out there deciding that for their DPxDC AUs that Jack and Maddie are abusive, when that really doesn't represent how they are in canon. Now I fully acknowledge that doing this can be a very useful tool for telling certain types of stories, and if you want to make a story about recovering from abuse and finding a new found family, all the more power to you for that! But for any other type of story where them being abusive isn't necessary for the backstory of the story you want to tell... It's just a bummer to do that, y'know? If you don't want to tell a story with Jack and Maddie in it, that's entirely fine! I'm not asking you to. But there are ways to get rid of them without making them abusive or dying. Of the two, I personally would prefer them dying (I just like the story potential of that, especially as far as Vlad is concerned). But there are plenty of easy things to do with them to keep them out of the story that don't require them being abusive or dead! So I'm here to give a list of things that can happen to them (that have precedent within either Danny Phantom itself or the DC universe) that keep them out of the story that don't require much explanation as well as some other ideas for what you can do with them if you have no idea what to do with them otherwise.

Lots of ideas under the cut! (Feel free to take what you want. As always, credit is appreciated, but not necessary. But I would love to see what you do with it!)

If you need them permanently absent so that Danny can get adopted

Fell into the Ghost Zone and cannot be found.

They are gone for whatever reason and Jazz is currently Danny's legal guardian (she's 18 or older and is therefore a legal adult).

While in the Ghost Zone, they accidentally traveled through time/got transported somewhere where they can't get home easily.

They got severely Joker gassed and are in medical care. (This is actually what happened to Duke's parents!)

They got severely Scarecrow gassed and are in medical care.

Went insane for some supervillain-related reason and are now missing/in medical care.

They were kidnapped by a villain for some reason.

They were kidnapped by a villain and are currently in a lotus-eaters simulation and therefore don't even know that they've gone missing.

Abducted by aliens.

They got wrapped up in some supervillain bullshit and now have amnesia and are unable to recognize Danny and Jazz.

They got magicked into something that can't take care of Danny and Jazz.

They were experimented on and are now incapable of taking care of Danny and Jazz.

Some cosmic entity did a whoopsie that effected Jack and Maddie and now they're in a condition/situation where they cannot take care of Danny and Jazz.

Got arrested and are in jail for some reason.

Were arrested and sent to jail for a long time. Have since joined Task Force X/the Suicide Squad for lienency.

Got hit by a stray Zeta-Beam and are now on some alien planet.

They got teleported somehow. We aren't certain about the details.

They fell into a hole to another world.

They no-clipped out of their normal reality.

Stranded with no way home.

They somehow ended up on a different planet. They are just hanging out with Space Cabbie now, who is just having a ROUGH day and can't find Earth for whatever reason.

Inducted into a Lantern Corps and are VERY busy because of it!

Coma.

Effected by a debilitating illness/disease/condition that makes them incapable of taking care of others.

They were forced to go undercover for some reason and therefore vanished. (Letting their kids know is optional)

They were forced to go undercover for some reason and were forced to fake their deaths.

They died, but came back to life. Danny has not been informed of this.

They got possessed by a superhero or supervillain who just wandered off with their bodies.

They got separated following a disaster and haven't been able to find each other again.

They've been retconned to hell and back again to the point where no one is entirely certain where they are, what they're doing, or even if they're alive anymore. Don't worry about it! Only mention them when it's relevant and the rest of the time we aren't going to bother explaining what's going on with them. If they are mentioned, accounts of where they are and what's going on with them are contradictory.

They're around, but will go unseen throughout this story

Any of the situations in the previous section, but it only happened to one of the parents, and the other is just too busy working and taking care of the kids by themselves.

The same as previous, but they also moved to Gotham.

Retcon things so that the events of Danny Phantom actually happened in Gotham City all along. (Maybe Amity Park is like... A suburb in the greater Gotham area.)

They went on vacation/were hired for a job that would take them away from home. They left Danny and Jazz to be taken care of by Vlad. Vlad is an asshole, so they ran away from him.

They went on vacation/were hired for a job that would take them away from home, but now that Jazz is over 18, she's been left in charge.

Put into Witness Protection by the government/the Guys in White.

Danny and friends have graduated from high school and are now legal adults, perhaps in college.

Danny's whole family moved to Gotham City. They're just at home/working during the events of this story.

Jack and Maddie have been hired to do some work with the Justice League and need to be away from home for an extended period of time. They have left a member of the Justice League to take care of Danny and Jazz in the meantime.

Fieldtrip/school trip to Gotham City.

Danny is old and responsible enough that Jack and Maddie trust Danny (and/or Jazz) to travel on their own. His parents are just a call away if he needs help.

Jack and Maddie are separated for whatever reason (one went missing/one is working abroad/they are divorced/one died) and the other moved to Gotham and is taking care of the kids in the meantime, but is busy and so will not appear.

Something happened to Fenton Works and the family needs to temporarily stay somewhere else while the problem with Fenton Works is sorted.

The family was driven out of town and they ran off to Gotham to escape the angry mob. (Or at least to wait until things cool down again.)

Jack or Maddie are able to work remotely and so they've moved to Gotham to do so. The kids came along/are visiting.

Jack and/or Maddie were hired for temporary work in Gotham and decided to bring the kids along.

One family member was taken to Arkham Asylum. They moved to Gotham to be closer.

Jazz went to Gotham for college. Danny is visiting.

Danny is sent to Gotham/Arkham for specialized health reasons.

Jack and Maddie have gotten in contact with a specialist that lives in Gotham and are visiting for work-related reasons.

They are on vacation in Gotham and brought the kids along. Danny and Jazz have been let off the leash to go where they want while Jack and Maddie do touristy stuff.

Visiting family/family friends living in Gotham.

They were passing through but are now unable to leave. (Bonus points if it's a No Man's Land situation.)

They were passing through, but were robbed. Jack and Maddie are dealing with the robbery stuff where Danny is off somewhere else.

They were just passing through, but Maddie and Jack got SEVERELY distracted by something and have run off to who knows where!

They are traveling with Vlad and expected Vlad to take care of and watch the kids!

Danny was abducted to Gotham.

Danny accidently ended up in Gotham somehow.

Danny somehow got transported/teleported to Gotham.

Doing an educational trip/apprenticeship/internship over in Gotham.

Danny ran away impulsively.

Some villain threatened Danny's family and forced him to run away from home.

Danny has revealed his secret to his parents, and while they might worry about Danny being a vigilante, believe in and trust Danny to do the right thing and allow him to do what he feels that he must to protect people.

The same as above, but Vlad also came out and is supervising.

They died.

I cannot understate the sheer JUICY storytelling potential that you can have by killing Jack and Maddie off! We already know how it might effect people and events from what we see in The Ultimate Enemy, but there really is limitless potential in terms of ways to twist, turn, and play with things to have different outcomes! Additionally, Jack and Maddie being genuinely good parents that die protecting Danny and Jazz offers lots of ways for Bruce to relate to Danny and Jazz! (He decided to become Batman so that no one would have to face what he did ever again... And he failed...) And the way that they die can offer some lovely different flavors of angst, coping mechanisms, motovations, and learning to deal with their loss. So here are some ideas for how to kill them off!

The universe exploded again, and when it was put back together, Jack and Maddie ceased to exist in current canon continuity. (This happens more often than you'd think.)

Vlad Wins.

They were killed in an apocalypse-level event.

They were killed in the crossfire of some superhero/supervillain fight.

They were taken by some villain. They were killed before the heroes could arrive.

They were killed in a random act of violence/crime. (Much like Batman's backstory. Do this to gain extra points from Bruce.)

Died in prison/after joining the Suicide Squad.

Gang violence.

Any of the previous but Gotham is just THAT dangerous!

Same as any gassing or supervillain plan, but they died instead of being missing or in medical care.

Got transported to a place where they died very far away from home.

They just died suddenly or because of an accident. It happens sometimes.

Things to note

Believe it or not, but your parents can still be in your life AND you can join the Batfamily AT THE SAME TIME! :D

Examples:

Barbra Gordon is very much in the Batfamily and both of her parents are alive and well. She's a very important part of the family, and in the comics, it is not uncommon to see her calling up her dad and talking to him! They'll even call each other if they need help with something. This does not take away from the fatherly role Bruce often has in her life. (She can have 2 dads and good for her for that!)

When Tim initially became Robin, his parents were alive and well. They would later die because comic writers are just like that, but being an orphan without loving parents in your life is not a prerequisite to being Robin.

Duke's parents are also alive! They are under the effects of Joker toxin, but they are alive, and if they ever find a cure for it, I imagine that they would be more than happy to have Duke back in their lives!

Terry from Batman Beyond is not an orphan and was taken under Bruce's wing to be the next Batman! Terry is even going to inherit a fair amount of Bruce's wealth for deciding to take on the responsibility of being Batman. But while his dad did die, his mom is still alive and well over the course of the series! And he has a little brother too! Terry may still be a teenager, but he is a bit of a breadwinner for his household while also still being an important part of Bruce's family. (He is often someone who helps Bruce take care of himself.)

But if the story you truly want to explore requires being adopted specifically... Well... You don't have to be a kid to be adopted! Jack and Maddie can still raise Danny and Jazz into adults and Bruce is able to adopt them later if he wants, once they have been well and established in his family! Hell, you don't even have to wait! As long as Bruce asks permission from Jack and Maddie, they can be alive AND he can adopt Danny! There is more than one way to be in a family, you know! And sometimes it takes a village! And really, would Jack and Maddie really object to Danny being adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne, especially if Danny really is enjoying his time being a part of his family and if Bruce has been an absolutely lovely person to them whenever he visits?

So I hope that you're able to take some inspiration from all of this for your own stories! If you need some elaboration on what I mean with some of these, or want to ask who could be responsible for some of these and how, feel free to drop on by and send me an ask! I would be more than happy to go into some more detail about these! Happy writing!

[circus4apsycho8]

Hi, I hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could write a ninjago Cole x reader where the reader is the teams medic. Cole, being the muscle of the team, usually gets hurt a lot and the medic has to patch him a lot on and off the field. They grow closer and close and eventually become an established relationship. Angst, smut, fluff, whatever, full creative freedom! Love your writing!!

Hey, thank you very much! Love this request! I will be making this a 2-3 part series. One of the next chapters will feature a second related request, I believe. Originally I was going to publish it all at once, but then I decided to break it up a little bit. Also, not sure how accurate the wounds and whatnot are, but I tried :v Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: stab wounds, cussing, mild gore descriptions

Word Count: 11.9k

Masterlist for this Fic

knife to meet you. | cole x reader | chapter i

The clock is going to drive you insane. 

Tick after tick, the hands click on, your sanity diminishing with each passing second. For the millionth time tonight, you rip your gaze from the dragging hands of the clock. Not even three minutes had passed since you’d last checked the time. A frustrated sigh tumbles from your lips, eyes venturing down to stare at the tea supplies scattered about the table before you.   

“Stop looking at it,” you grumble to yourself, returning your hands to your task - bagging tea leaves and ingredients to assemble Mystake’s latest recipe. Her new tea is set to launch tomorrow, and she could be a stickler for keeping fully stocked shelves. The thought makes you sigh, knowing you’ll certainly be busy in the morning. Perhaps the promotion would make the day go by faster. 

The repetitive motions of your hands eventually allow your mind to shift into autopilot mode, hands running on muscle memory as you wonder how much longer you would be here for - you’d come a long way since training as her apprentice, and by helping her with the shop, she allowed you to live with her rent free.

And while you’re forever grateful for Mystake’s kindness, you know this isn’t what destiny has planned for you. Running a tea shop was her dream, not yours. Deep within your heart, you feel yourself growing antsy. You wouldn’t thrive here, and a part of you wonders if you’ll end up stuck here. 

The bell above the door chimes, snapping your body out of autopilot and into customer service mode. The smile plastered on your face masks the annoyance at having to serve someone so late. Who even thinks to buy tea this late at night? 

You hop off of the stool. “Good evening! How can I-”   

The sight before you jerks your body out of autopilot, a horrified expression overcoming you as your eyes process the scene in front of you:   

Three men dressed in gis stand before you, two of them supporting a man in a black gi - his head is drooped, and he’s limp. His arms are strung around the necks and shoulders of two men on either side - one dressed in red and the other blue.   

“Please,” grunts the one in blue. “We need help!”   

“He’s been stabbed, and we didn’t know where else to go,” adds the red one, both looking at you with desperate faces. “You can treat wounds, right?”   

For a moment, you freeze. Mystake isn’t here, and she always takes care of these things. You’ve only ever observed or helped with guidance. She certainly wouldn’t make it back in time to help.   

What would she say right now?   

...She’d tell me not to freeze. Just work and do what you were trained to do. Make a decision. 

You snap out of your stupor, realizing that you’re on your own. This man needs help now, and you know you’ll never become a healer if you don’t start doing things on your own.   

So, you force yourself to swallow your fear. “Okay. Take him in the back; take a right, then enter the second doorway on the left. I’ll be right there.” 

The two oblige without question, immediately making their way to the back of the store. After making your way to the front, you lock the door and flip the sign to ‘closed’. Next, you jog behind the counter, swiping the emergency medical kit you always had stocked. On your way to the room, you swipe a certain tea you know you’ll need later.   

With almost everything you need in hand, you hurry through the maze of tea shelves and doors until you arrive in the medical room.   

The two men have lowered their friend on top of the bed, with the red one pressing down on his abdomen. Blood cakes the lower parts of his arms, eyes wide with fear as he holds the pressure.   

“The blood…it’s not stopping,” the brunet drawls, tensing as he stares at the wound.   

“Here, let me,” you state, immediately coming to take over. He relents, stepping off to the side. “I need you guys to grab me a few towels. They’re in the cabinet to the right.”   

They nod, rushing to gather what you need. You’re quick to start applying pressure to the wound, face twisting in determination as you hold the fabric in place. The stabbed man grunts, hissing as he tosses his head back in pain. Normally a reaction like this would scare you, but you’re too hopped up on adrenaline to care at the moment.   

“I’m sorry. I know this hurts like hell, but I have to get the bleeding to stop,” you sympathize, eyes still trained on his wound. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the blue one frozen at the side. Looks like he could use something else to focus on. “Hey, blue guy. Can you start steeping that tea bag over there? I know it’s an odd request at such a time, but just trust me.”   

“Tea bag? Y-Yeah, I’m on it.” Thankfully, this snaps him out his stupor and gets his hands busy.   

You note that the red one looks antsy too. A glance at the injured man’s tattered top gives you an idea for another task.   

“And could you get his top off, please? I need to make sure he wasn’t hit anywhere else this badly.”   

“Yeah. Yeah…okay. I can do that,” he replies, eyes lingering over the blood momentarily before he snaps himself out of his stupor. His hands fumble to his belt, where he slips out a small, silver shuriken.   

You shuffle out of his way as best you can without hindering your progress on the wound, watching as the shuriken slices through the fabric. Mr. Red Guy gently pulls the sides off and out of your way, allowing it to drape over the sides of the table.   

After thanking him, you quickly scan the rest of the stabbed man’s torso. There are a few bruises and cuts, but the stab wound seems to be the brunt of the damage.   

From there, the room falls quiet save for his pained grunts.   

“Fuck,” he curses, voice taut. “How...how’s it looking?”   

“You’re gonna pull through, man,” replies the red one, his voice coming out stronger than he looks. “She’s got the blood loss slowing down.”   

The blue one, on the other hand, doesn’t sound as put together. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, but you can tell he’s trying to sound optimistic. “Yeah, Cole, you’re going to be just fine.”   

“How’s the tea looking?” you inquire, trying to distract him from whatever’s making him upset. You need everyone to remain calm until the bleeding has stopped.   

“I think it’s ready. Do you need it?”   

“Yes, please,” you reply. “Have him drink as much as he can, even if it’s only a few sips. It should ease the pain a little bit and help prevent infection.”   

The redhead nods, going to prop his friend’s head up while the other holds the teacup for him. You listen as they speak softly to him, words too quiet for you to hear.   

It takes you a minute, but thankfully you’re able to get the bleeding to stop. Soon enough, the wound is sterilized and bandaged properly with the man now unconscious on the table.   

You find yourself absentmindedly cleaning the last bits of blood off of his torso, realizing that the three of you are all quietly processing the night together.   

“Are you two okay?” you speak suddenly, shifting your gaze to them. “You’re not wounded, are you?”   

“No, we’re okay. Just a little cut up and bruised, but nothing we can’t handle,” the spiky-haired brunet assures. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t helped us.”   

“It’s what we do. I’m glad I was able to help him,” you dismiss, smiling softly as you return your gaze to the task at hand. “Oh, and by the way…” You take a moment to introduce yourself. “I’m Mystake’s apprentice.”   

“Only an apprentice?” the redhead wonders.   

“I thought you were a master medic, what with the way you handled that. But yeah, I’m Kai, that’s Jay, and he’s Cole.”   

You nod in acknowledgement, attempting to commit their names to memory. “Thank you. Well, I wish it was under better circumstances, but nonetheless it’s nice to meet you all.”   

“Likewise,” Kai replies.   

You debate your next question momentarily, but decide to just ask anyway. “And do you mind if I ask what happened? Stabbings are rare around here.”   

“Well, I’d say you’ve more than earned an explanation for us barging in here with a dying man in the middle of the night, then handling it like a pro,” Jay interjects. “We were on a mission to investigate an incident of serial burglaries that had been occurring around a town close to this one.”  

“Long story short, we find the guys, confront them, then things start to get heated,” Kai continues, staring off into the distance. “So, we start fighting, trying to apprehend and whatnot. Cole doesn’t draw his weapon yet because he’s pretty well-versed with hand-to-hand combat.”   

“It was my fault,” Jay interrupts, eyes turning glassy again as he averts his gaze. “One of them tripped me up, and I caught sight of the knife they had. And I…I just froze. I don’t know why. But he pushed me out of the way just in time, and he took the hit in my place.”   

“It’s not your fault, Jay,” Kai assures. “This was a rough job for us all. And it doesn’t help that Zane wasn’t here to help.”   

“The important thing is that you’re all alive and healing,” you say, dumping another bloodied towel into a nearby bin. “And he’s going to be just fine.” 

“I still can’t help but feel bad,” mumbles the redhead, your heart dropping slightly at the sight of his guilt-laced stare. “He shouldn’t have to look out for us when he already takes the brunt of the damage.”   

Their words pique your interest, causing you to glance up with a puzzled expression. “So you guys do this a lot, then? Are you vigilantes or something?”   

“We’re ninja,” Kai responds, gesturing to the symbols on both of their gis. “We recently finished our training with our master, and have been fighting to make Ninjago a safer place ever since.”   

“Oh, I see!” you reply. That certainly explains the strange outfits and weapons. The conversation reminds you of a rumor you had heard from a few customers one day a few weeks ago. “You know, now that we’re talking about it, I had heard rumors about ninjas surfacing somewhere and taking out bad guys. I just didn’t think much of it considering nothing major has happened in our town since.”   

Kai grins slightly at this, eyeing Jay with a small smirk. “Hey, sounds like we’re starting to make waves.”   

“Waves? I think you’re giving us too much credit,” Jay notes, stifling a yawn.   

“But it’s a start,” Kai adds, also yawning. The action makes you realize how late it is, knowing the two must be exhausted from the night’s events.   

“Alright. It’s late, and he’s about as cleaned up as I can get him right now,” you comment. “If you two will just help me move him onto a stretcher, I can get him hooked up to an IV and then he’ll be set for the night. Mystake will want him to stay so we can monitor his vitals and ensure that the wound doesn’t become infected. You both are welcome to stay here while he’s recovering; we’ve got a spare room and extra clothes for times like these. Please, follow me.”   

…   

With Kai and Jay now settled in for the night, you find yourself preparing the IV for Cole in the recovery ward of the shop.   

As your fingers work, you find your gaze drifting to the man before you. Now that he’s stable and your adrenaline rush has passed, you have time to observe him.   

His gi had been black - that much you remember. Your eyes drift across his bare torso, noting that he has a few scars across his chest. His stature is muscular - seemingly more so than the other two.   

You tear your gaze from him, double checking that everything is ready before taking his arm in your hands, flipping it over to find the right vein. Once you do, you insert the IV. 

The action makes him stir, eyes opening slightly. Immediately, he tries to sit up, but your muscle memory kicks in just in time to push him back down.   

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” you say, holding him down gently. “You’re okay, but you need to rest.”   

Thankfully, he settles, eyes relaxing slightly at your touch. Jaded green eyes study your figure as you gaze at him, watching to see if he’s going to try and get up again.   

“Where am I?” he wonders, voice hoarse. “I barely remember what happened. Everything’s patchy for me...I remember that room, Kai and Jay were there...then I couldn’t stay awake anymore.”   

“You’re at Mystake’s tea shop. This is our recovery ward. You were stabbed in a fight, and your friends brought you here. You’re all patched up now, but you need to rest so you can heal properly. Your friends are just in the other room.”   

“Stabbed? Oh…it’s coming back to me now.” He groans, shutting his eyes and letting his head drop onto the pillow again. “Are they okay?”   

“They’re fine, just sleeping now,” you assure.  

It’s then you realize that you still have a hand on his chest. Your cheeks heat up as you snatch your hand away. “Oh stars, I’m sorry! It’s just been, well…a long night. I guess I’m just a bit distracted now that the action has passed.”  

Cole chuckles, averting his gaze. He winces a bit, making his smile fade slightly. “You’re okay. I hadn’t even noticed.”  

“Your name is Cole, right?”   

“Yeah,” he mumbles.   

You tell him your name, words stumbling out in a mix of your default introductory statement and the mush that is your mind at the moment. “I’m Mystake’s apprentice. It’s knife to meet you.”   

Upon processing the phrase you’d added through your post-adrenaline exhaustion, your eyes widen. “Oh my god. I’m sorry, I-I did not mean to say that out loud! That was so inappropriate of me-”   

“Wow,” Cole responds, shaking his head at you with a small grin. “You can’t just cut down the stab victim like that, doc.”   

“I’m sorry!” you squeak before realizing that he, too, made a pun concerning his injury. “Wait...you’re not upset?”   

“Of course not. You saved my life,” he replies, glancing back down at his wound. “And I appreciate your humor. I know the guys have been pretty down about the whole ordeal, so it’s nice to know that you can at least make light of it.”   

“Oh,” you reply, not expecting that response at all. “Well...I’m glad that you’re okay with it. I see so much gore these days that I...” you trail off, realizing you shouldn’t be spilling your innermost thoughts to a patient.    

You shake your head, nervously chuckling as you take a step back. “I’m rambling, sorry. Are you hurting right now? I can get you a bit more of our pain-killing tea. It might help you sleep, too.”   

“That sounds great,” he replies. “Thank you.”   

You nod, standing up. “I’ll be right back, then.”   

With that, you make your way towards the kitchen. You get another cup of tea steeping, taking the down time to drink a bit of water and get a snack.   

A few seconds after you finish, you hear the door to the tea shop opening. You peek your head out from the back, relief coursing through you when you see Mystake behind the counter.   

“Thank the stars, you’re back!” you say, sighing as she turns to you.   

“I am. You closed the shop early?” she inquires, hanging her hat up on its usual spot.   

“Yes. Two people brought in a man who had been stabbed, and I had to treat it and I-” you trail off, the stress of the situation finally catching up to you as tears pool in your eyes.   

Mystake sets her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to sit down. “A stabbing? Oh dearie…I know it’s scary, but you did the right thing. He’s stabilized now, yes?”   

You nod as she takes your hands in hers, sniffling a bit. “Yeah. I was going to give him some of that pain-killing tea so he could sleep.”   

“Very good, very good. Here, finish what you’re doing while I have a look.”   

Your stomach twists, hands coming to fidget as you nod in response. “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”   

With that, you’re left alone once more. Anxiety meshes with your post-adrenaline rush, leaving you lightheaded and nauseous. You can’t help but zone out for a bit, only jerked away from your thoughts when the water starts squealing.   

The tea doesn’t take you long to prepare, and soon enough, you find yourself approaching the recovery ward once more.   

The lights have been dimmed, causing you to wonder if he’s suffering a headache. You can still see well enough to notice that he’s still awake, though. Mystake is nowhere to be seen, meaning she must have finished her exam.   

“Here, this should help,” you say, setting the tray on the table next to the bed. “It should be cooled enough to drink. Try to drink as much as you can.”   

You hand him the cup, keeping an eye on his hands to make sure he doesn’t spill it.   

“Thanks,” he mumbles, hands seemingly steady enough for the time being. He takes a sip, face melting at the relief it must be bringing. “God, this stuff is magic. How does it kick in so fast?”   

You shrug, smiling softly as he takes another sip. “I’m not sure. Mystake’s teas are incredible. She’s a master at her craft, that’s for sure.” 

“Makes me wonder what else she can do with her teas,” he mumbles. 

“You’d be surprised. She’s like a tea witch,” you reply with a chuckle. “Do you need anything else? Extra blankets, another pillow, snacks, water...?” 

“I think I’m good for now,” he mumbles, sighing in relief. “This is already working wonders.” 

“Okay. If you need anything at all, just push the button on the side of the nightstand. We’ll try to check on you shortly after sunrise. Try to get some sleep for now.” 

“Being unconscious sounds great about now,” he mumbles. “Thank you.” 

You nod in response, smiling softly as you take the tray back into your hands, leaving the mug for him. 

Just before you exit the recovery ward, though, his voice sounds once more: 

"For the record, it was knife to meet you too.” 

...   

Mystake lets you sleep through the new tea launch, much to your relief. You don’t think you would have had nearly enough energy to deal with the rush today – not after all of last night’s excitement.   

Once you rise, you stumble through your morning routine. Yawns rake your body as you attempt to wake up, brain foggy as you emerge from your room.   

You can already hear customers chattering in the front, causing you to redirect to the kitchen. Through streams of unfamiliar voices, you can faintly hear Mystake’s voice vividly describing her newest creation. Looks like she’s doing just fine by herself so far. Which is great, considering you need a hot drink before you can even think about the public.   

Upon arriving to your destination, muscle memory kicks in and you start working on your drink without thinking much about what you’re doing. Your hands work in quiet tandem, voice humming a tune while you listen to the distant voices of consumers and employees alike.   

Once you’ve finished, you lean against the counter and take a sip.   

Soft footsteps catch your attention, eyes drifting towards the entrance. Moments later, two groggy and disheveled ninja catch your attention.   

“Morning,” greets Kai, hair frizzy and wild. Jay is in no better shape, eyes lined with circles as he offers a tired nod.   

“Morning, guys,” you reply, setting your drink to the side. “Doing okay?”   

“Yeah,” Kai responds. You gesture for the two to have a seat, and they do. “Thanks. Is it okay if our Sensei drops by with our other teammate today?”   

“Of course,” you assure. “What time will they be here?”   

“Probably about an hour or so,” Kai answers.   

Jay raises a notched eyebrow at this. “An hour? That’s...unusually quick for him, don’t you think?”   

The brunet nods in agreement. “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Although he did say something about a smoke vision and needing to see something for himself.” Kai shrugs, running his fingers through his hair. “You know how he is. Cryptic and old.”   

“A smoke vision?” Jay wonders. “Every time he has one of those, something big happens. What could it be this time?”   

“I don’t know. He didn’t say much about it, just that he needed to come see something in person. Who knows?”   

“I just don’t get why a near-death experience would be something that triggers a vision,” Jay mumbles. “Oh well. His wisdom works in mysterious ways, I guess. It hasn’t failed us yet.”   

Kai shrugs, not seeming too concerned about the ordeal. “Whatever it is, it’ll work out. Anyways, I’m starving. How about we make a breakfast run, huh? Let’s make it a race so we can get some blood pumping on our way there!”   

You raise an eyebrow, chuckling nervously as the two start thrumming with an energy that wasn’t present last night. Maybe resting and seeing their patched-up teammate has brought it back? Then again, you don’t really know what’s normal for these guys either.   

“You’re on!” Jay stands, a playful determination glinting in his eyes as he turns towards you. “Hey, what’s good around here?”   

“There’s a small diner around the block that’s always good,” you note. “But you guys don’t have to-”   

Jay makes an ‘ah-ah’ noise, shaking his head. “Nope. You saved our brother’s life, and for that you’re at least getting free breakfast.”   

“And more upon request,” Kai adds with a flirty smirk and wink combo. You roll your eyes as he dodges a hit from Jay.  

“Kai, you can’t just flirt with the doctor!” Jay admonishes, the two already zipping out of the kitchen. You try to follow them, but they’re flying out the door while yelling at each other.  

All while going the wrong direction.  

You sigh, chuckling to yourself as you shake your head. Oh well; they’ll figure it out. It certainly seems like they’ve got more than enough energy to spare today.  

“What in the world are they so riled up about this morning?” Mystake wonders, staring at the entrance. It seems as if the initial customer rush is over for the morning, but there are still a few milling about and browsing.  

“Breakfast, apparently,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I’m going to go check on Cole. I’ll be right back out to help.”  

“Actually, I’ll need you for something else today. Pack your bags, dearie – I’ve got a job for you that requires traveling.”  

“Traveling?” you wonder, turning towards your mentor. She merely flashes you an innocent smile – even though you’re sure it’s anything but.  

“Yes. You’ve proven to me that you’re ready to start taking jobs on your own. So, we’re going to start trying them out if you’re okay with it.”  

“Do you…do you really think I’m ready?” you wonder. “I know I was able to handle last night, but…”  

“I do not think it is the disease, nor the injuries that scare you. It is the threat of change. You’ve been cooped up in my store too long, and now it’s time for you to work on your own more often.”  

Her words strike you speechless momentarily. A change was what you’d wanted, right? More independence? More time to work on your own? But…this isn’t just any old job. It’s healing, and people’s lives are on the line. People’s lives are in your hands. Is that a responsibility you’re truly ready to take on?  

A part of you wants to say no – to stay within the comfort of your routine, despite its repetitiveness. That way, you would always have help when you needed it. That way, you wouldn’t have to confront the daunting question of:  

What comes next for me?  

Mystake places her hand over yours, sensing your debate. “The leap into the unknown is always the hardest part, but it is one we all must conquer at some point. I know you’re scared – of making mistakes and determining what your next steps are. But that’s life. Mistakes are how we learn, my dear. Heck, that’s why I’m called Mystake!”  

“But mistakes can get people killed,” you reply.  

“They can. But you’re not trusting in yourself or your training enough. What happened yesterday is rare – in my lifetime, I’ve only treated a handful of stabbings. And most of the time, they weren’t as life-threatening as Cole’s was. You’re not giving yourself enough credit – you took action, followed your training, and saved a man’s life as a result. Look at it that way.”  

You nod, watching as her steely eyes twinkle in a knowing fashion. “And truthfully…I don’t know what more I have to teach you. I truly think you’re at the point where experience will be your greatest teacher. Everything will work out for you; you just have to let it all fall into place. Before you know it, you’ll settle into your new normal without batting an eyelash over it. Because by then, it will feel right. And you’ll have been forever grateful that you took the leap.” 

“Okay,” you reply, letting her words steep. “Okay, I understand.”  

She smiles, setting a hand on your shoulder. “How about you take the day off from the store to think about it? Just tend to your patient and make sure his bandages stay clean. We can talk more about it later.”  

“Alright,” you say, nodding in response. “Thank you, Mystake.”  

With her words in mind, you set off to check on Cole.  

…  

Upon arriving, you note that Cole is already awake. Mystake must have dropped by this morning, because he’s reading a book you recognize from her prized collection. You take a moment to observe the way the strands of his dark hair fall around his face as he concentrates, eyes scouring the pages. It doesn’t help that he’s still shirtless, too – you’d been too exhausted last night to notice, but he’s nicely toned. To think you’d had your hand on his sternum, too…  

You shake your head, reassuming your professional demeanor. No checking out the hot ninja patient!  

“Good morning,” you greet, offering a demure smile as you gently shut the door. “How are you feeling, Cole?”  

“Good morning. Definitely better today,” he answers, gingerly shutting the book and setting it to the side.  

“I’m glad to hear it!” you chirp, noting that he’s also got a fresh mug of tea. “I’m going to have to check your wound quickly to make sure it’s not getting infected. I’ll get you some fresh bandages too. Our hope is that you’ll be back on your feet within the next two days or so.”  

“Sounds great,” Cole replies. As you make your way towards the supply chest to the left of the room, he calls: “Going to make fun of me again?”  

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to make fun of you,” you retort, grinning as you pull out a set of clean gauze as well as a special type of antiseptic cleanser.  

“It’s better than being tiptoed around, that’s for sure,” he says as you pull a rolling stool up next to him. You set your supplies on the nightstand next to him, pulling on a pair of gloves. The bands snap against your skin as you wiggle your fingers until they fit snugly inside.  

“Your friends were just worried about you. Really worried,” you reply. “But they seem better today. Way more energetic, that’s for sure.”  

Cole simpers, shaking his head lightly. “That’s good to hear. Speaking of which…where’d they run off to?”  

“They’re grabbing breakfast,” you answer. It’s then notice that his wound is covered by the blankets, so you push them aside. Cole ends up bunching up the sheets, letting them rest over his middle. With the fabric now out of your way, you start peeling the gauze away.  

“Alright, let’s see here…” you trail off, inspecting the wound. Everything looks okay so far – no signs of infection or reopening. Good. “Not infected. Seems to be on its way to healing. That’s good. We’re just going to clean it with an antiseptic and magic-infused solution. Its purpose is twofold: to prevent infection and speed up the healing process. It should help the cut fully close within a day or so.”  

“Great,” Cole acknowledges, watching as you pour a bit onto a clean rag. The solution fizzes, emitting a faint, white light.  

“Fair warning, it’s going to sting,” you advise, waiting for the glow to simmer down a bit.  

“Then I may not be able to handle this.”  

You roll your eyes, unable to help but smile as you look up at him. Grassy green eyes glimmer back at you playfully as you respond: “Now you’re just being a baby.”  

“Do you call all of your patients babies?” he questions, grin faltering to a grimace as you start cleaning the wound. The liquid sizzles angrily against the wound, working its magic.  

After letting it soak for a few seconds, you start wiping the excess off. “Well, considering you’re the first and only patient that I’ve fully tended to, yes.”  

“I’m your first patient? That can’t be true,” he remarks, studying your hands as they rebandage his abdomen with fresh gauze.  

“From start to end, you are. Mystake has let me practice on others before, but only on certain phases of their injury or illness. You’re the first person that I’ve both patched up and tended to during recovery. And all by myself, too.”  

“Huh. I never would have guessed that from watching you work. You’re a natural.”  

His words leave you speechless for a moment, cheeks warming as you finish rebandaging him. “Thank you; that’s sweet of you to say. I’ve still got a lot to learn, though.”  

“But I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. Give yourself some credit.”  

Unsure of what to say, you smile at him in response. Cole returns your grin, pulling the blanket back over his torso. Somehow, the quiet between you two feels…fine. You know he doesn’t mind your lack of response. It’s comfortable; not forced.  

You like that.  

A moment later, you avert your gaze, fingers slipping underneath the bands of your gloves before pulling them off. “Well…I guess I’ll be back with something for you to eat soon. I imagine they won’t be much longer.”  

“Sounds good. Thanks, doc.”  

The nickname makes your heart stumble, but you’re able to play it off. “Absolutely.”  

…  

The ninja return soon enough – not only with breakfast, but with two unfamiliar people in tow. One appears to be around their age, dressed in a white gi while the other is an elderly man donning a bamboo staff and straw hat.  

“Sorry we’re late!” Jay says as they file into the store. “We ran into our master and teammate on the way back and had to catch up.”  

“That’s okay,” you assure, noticing that the two newcomers linger at the front. Kai and Jay, on the other hand, rush to the back. Knowing Mystake will greet them, you elect to follow Kai and Jay to the dining table.  

“We realized halfway through ordering that we didn’t ask you what you wanted,” Kai admits, sheepishly grinning. “So…we just got a bunch of different stuff. Whatever you don’t want, Cole will eat. I assure you.”  

“No worries,” you reply, watching as they unload the to-go bags. A mouthwatering scent floods the air, comprised of all kinds of breakfast foods. You note that they bought many more containers than you would have initially guessed, but factoring in the realization that ninjas probably eat more solves that puzzle. Just how much do these guys eat? “Have you two checked on him yet, by the way?”  

“Yeah, we talked to him this shortly after we woke up,” Jay answers, spreading out a mound of wrapped, plastic to-go cutlery sets. Hungry hands are quick to snatch them up. 

“Good. I just changed his bandages; I think he should be up and walking within the next day or so. We’ve just got to make sure the wound stays clean for now.” 

“Do you think he could come sit with us if we help him?” Kai wonders. “Kinda sucks that he’s stuck by himself.” 

You don’t answer immediately, taking a moment to ponder the decision. “Yes, he can. But we’ll need to use a wheelchair so we don’t risk reopening the wound. I’ll help too.”  

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Cole is successfully relocated to the dining room. Kai makes you pick a container of food before shuffling the rest to Cole. Everyone settles in – including the two newcomers. Mystake remains in the front for the time being. 

Kai starts off the conversation by introducing you, then the other two: “...this is Sensei Wu, and that’s Zane.”  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” you greet, flashing the two a smile. 

“Likewise,” returns the snowy-haired ninja. He seems far calmer than his teammates, and sports a more sophisticated personality. “We are most grateful for your aid.”  

“Why? All she did was stick a band aid on me and call me a baby,” Cole replies as everyone starts passing around food. 

Kai and Jay snicker, both accepting their to-go containers of food with ravenous eyes. Zane’s eyes scrunch in confusion while their Sensei chuckles. 

“Only a band aid?” the icy-eyed ninja wonders. “Perhaps I heard the details of your injury incorrectly-“ 

“It’s a joke, Zane,” Jay explains as he unwraps his to-go plasticware. “The injury was really bad, but she got it under control.” 

“Did you actually call him a baby, though?” Kai wonders, eyeing you expectantly. 

You find your cheeks warming again, with expectant eyes on you. “Uh…I did, yeah. But only because he said he wouldn’t be able to handle the sting of the antiseptic when he’d just survived a stabbing-“ 

At your explanation, Kai and Jay break down in a fit of laughter. Cole shakes his head with a grin, but the mood remains light. It’s such a stark contrast to last night’s atmosphere that you can’t help but giggle too. 

You can see it in Kai and Jay’s eyes, too - Jay’s striking blue eyes are twinkling with mischief, making the bags under his eyes seem less prominent. Kai’s warm brown ones are tired too, but seeing his teammate recovered enough to make light of the situation seems to have alleviated the worry he’d been experiencing throughout the night. 

And, when you look at him, you can see it in Cole’s, too – the way his vibrant, green eyes have almost brightened since you studied them last night. They had been faded and dull yesterday, but thankfully that’s no longer the case. 

You avert your gaze before he can catch you staring, though, electing to focus on your food instead. 

“Regardless of whether or not my pupil was acting like a baby, I’d still like to thank you,” interrupts the elderly man. You note how the ninja quiet down upon hearing him speak, glancing at each to see that they’ve given him their attention. “You saved my student’s life, and for that, we’re all eternally grateful.” 

A chorus of agreements emanate from the ninja as the reality of the situation settles over the group. “Of course. We’re healers; it’s what we do. I’m glad I was able to help.” 

For a moment, it’s silent until Kai speaks up: “Oh, did you guys catch the last suspect? I know I managed to get two before the third slipped away.” 

“Yes, we located him before we came here,” Zane answers. “He’s in custody now.” 

Cole nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. “Good. I’m glad.” 

The conversation turns towards the ninja’s training. While you don’t understand much of what they’re talking about, you’re able to chime in on occasion. They still manage to include you in the chat – namely when Jay suggests you could become a “ninja doctor”. 

Which somehow turns into a debate about the conflicting nature of such a title – a ninja who could heal and hurt. It stuns you how the ninja are able to get so philosophical about something so silly. 

“No, no, Kai, you’re missing the point. It’s like what Master Splinter said in the twenty-twelve version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Jay argues before quoting: “’Do no harm, unless you need to do harm. Then do lots of harm!’” 

Kai narrows his eyes, pondering Jay’s claim momentarily. “So, by that logic, are we all healers, then? Because we don’t do harm unless we need to?” 

“Kai’s right,” Cole agrees, starting on what must be his third box of food. “That’s too general to go by. But it is a fantastic quote, though. Sounds like something Master Wu would say.” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jay frowns, trailing off. “But she could be like Donatello, though. He fights but also kind of serves as the team medic.” 

“No, no, Donnie’s way smarter than I am,” you counter. “I can’t invent or do anything as scientific as he can.” 

Jay shrugs. “But you don’t have to. You’d just heal one of us and then go smack someone up with a bo staff.” 

This makes you all chuckle, and leads you to another thought: “Hey, do you guys realize how similar you are to the ninja turtles?” 

A collective epiphany dawns on Kai, Jay, and Cole as they stare at each other, eyes widening. 

“Woah,” Jay mumbles. “Wait, wait, guys she’s onto something!” 

The redhead points at Sensei Wu, then trails his finger across the table. “Sensei…you’re basically Master Splinter. Cole’s our leader, so he’s Leo. Kai’s the hothead, which makes him Raph. I’m the funny and cute one, so naturally I’m Mikey. And Zane’s the brainiac, so he’s Donnie. And Nya’s kind of like April!” 

A sound of awe emanates from three of the ninja, nodding their heads at Jay’s analysis. Poor Zane just seems lost. 

“Are you comparing me to a giant, mutated rat man?” Sensei Wu questions, amusement laced in his gaze. 

“So, you do watch modern TV!” Kai cries, pointing an accusatory finger at Wu. “See! I told you he was lying to us!” 

From there, they start to laugh about Wu before comparing the villains they’ve fought to the ones that appear in the show. That’s when you’re not able to keep up as well. 

Regardless, you roll with the flow of the discussion, surprised at how much you’re enjoying it. A few times, you catch Cole’s stare. 

He never averts his gaze, or makes you feel embarrassed. Instead, he smiles. 

You’re not sure that your heart is supposed to be beating so hard every time it happens, but you can’t help it. Even so, you ignore it. 

… 

Shortly after breakfast, the ninja wheel Cole back into the recovery ward. Zane remains momentarily to help you clean up before joining them. 

“I hope they haven’t been too rowdy,” comes the voice of Sensei Wu. 

You shake your head. “No, they’ve been great. They’re…fun, actually. I’ve enjoyed having them around.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’ve been training them for a good while, but even now they can be a handful.” 

The old man quiets momentarily, free hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Mystake tells me you’re considering new opportunities to practice your craft. Is this true?” 

“Oh, um…yeah, it is. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, but…yeah, definitely thinking about it.” 

Sensei Wu nods in acknowledgement, eyes contemplative as he selects his next words: “I see. Well, I heard about how you handled Cole’s injury from Kai and Jay. If you’re interested, I’d like to offer you a position as our team’s medic.” 

Your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, the unexpectedness of the proposition making your mind whirl. He wants you to become their official medic? 

“What? Really?” you wonder. “But I don’t have any field experience yet! Cole is the first patient I’ve tended to from start to finish.” 

“That’s all right. We’ve all got to start somewhere. The ninja themselves have only just finished their training and are now fighting together on their own. You’re similar to them in that regard. For all of you, experience will be your greatest teacher from now on.” 

That sentence reminds you of what Mystake said earlier – about experience. It dawns on you that they’re absolutely right – you’re never going to get better by letting your fear win. You have to break the confines of comfortability and get out there. 

Then, a question occurs to you: did Mystake know about this? Is this the job that she was talking about earlier – the one you were supposed to pack for? You’d have to ask her later. 

“And if you like, we could even try out, say…a trial. You could come work with us for a few weeks and see how you like it. If it’s not what you’re looking for, then you won’t have to commit.” 

“I…like the sound of that, actually,” you admit. “So…how would that work?” 

“You’d stay at my monastery. Depending on the circumstances, you might travel with the ninja for missions that are riskier or farther away. Of course, you won’t ever get close enough to be in danger. If you like, we could even have you trained to help design our missions. Kai’s sister handles a decent portion of the mission planning, but a fresh set of eyes always helps.” 

You like the sound of that. Traveling? Learning new skills? Working alongside the ninja? Just imagining the variety presented by the job gets you excited! 

“Sounds dynamic and fun – which is exactly what I’m looking for. Let’s try it out,” you reply, offering your hand. 

The old man grins, shaking your hand. “We’re looking forward to working with you.” 

… 

A few hours pass, with the ninja and Wu slinking back to the recovery ward. You take an hour or so for yourself, hanging out in your room while thinking about what you’d take for your trial run with the ninja. After much debate, you manage to get what you need packed while leaving out enough items for the day or so it’d take Cole to get back on his feet. Mystake’s healing antiseptic works wonders, so you know it’s simply a matter of time. 

You wind up feeling too antsy to settle down, so you insist on taking over for Mystake while she takes a lunch break. 

Thankfully, the main rush is over for the day. Once the last few customers pour out of the store, you decide to start restocking. A soft hum sounds from your lips as you climb a stepstool, a box of tea tucked underneath your arm as you make sure to maintain your balance. 

While you work, a soft whistling tune drifts from the hallway, accompanied by heavy footsteps. When they approach the entrance to the shop, you turn your head. 

Kai stands there, checking the shelves with scrutinizing eyes. You huff a silent laugh, wondering what’s he looking for. 

“Need something?” you wonder, stepping down from the ladder. 

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you,” Kai notes, pivoting around to face you. “Yeah, Mystake was asking for me to grab some kind of tea. Reme-tea, I think she said?” 

You nod, gesturing for him to follow you towards the back. “I know what you’re talking about. Follow me.” 

“Are all of her teas named with puns?” he inquires. 

“A lot of them are. She thinks she’s funny,” you mumble, rolling your eyes affectionately. “But she names others a little more artistically.” 

“That explains a lot of what Master Wu drinks. He must shop here a lot.” 

“I can’t remember if I’ve seen him here before,” you admit, stopping when you reach the correct shelf. You rummage through the tea, frowning upon realizing the shelf needs to be reorganized. “I’ve served so many customers that their faces might as well be a blur to me – especially since a lot of them come during the early hours.” 

“I get that. I used to work at my parent’s blacksmith shop with my sister. Can’t say I miss the work; it got way too repetitive and bland for our taste. I can’t smith to save my life. It was a miracle that we made enough to scrape by.” 

“Blacksmithing, huh? Sounds hard,” you sympathize, glad that someone else understands the pains of customer service. Even so, you wonder why his parents wouldn’t help them out. Knowing that might be a sensitive topic, you elect not to pry. 

“Yeah, suffice to say it…wasn’t for us. I’m glad Sensei Wu found us when he did.” He pauses momentarily as you move your search to a different shelf, wondering where in the hell Mystake moved the Reme-tea. “But that reminds me…Sensei said you’d be staying with us to test out a work opportunity.” 

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve been dying to get out of here, honestly. I’m just kind of scared to get out in the field, but…you know. I won’t find out until I do it.” 

The brunet nods, turning to glance over the other shelves in an effort to help your search. “I know the feeling.” 

“You were nervous to become a ninja?” you respond. 

“Yeah, I was scared, but…I didn’t really have a choice. My sister was kidnapped by a group of Garmadon’s goons who’d come to our village. If Sensei hadn’t saved me, I would have been a goner…but they still got away with her. I had to change because she needed my help. So…I swallowed my fear and just worked. I didn’t give myself a chance to think about it. I went with Wu and didn’t look back.” 

You gasp at the story, frowning. “I’m so sorry…that must have been horrific. I can’t imagine…” 

Kai shrugs, smiling softly. You finally find the tea you’re looking for, reaching to grab it. 

“It was scary at the time. But Nya’s tough, and she ended up being just fine. We saved her, introduced her to the team, and…well, we’ve all stuck together since. I dunno, I guess things just kind of…fell into place for us.” 

You nod, curious at the mention of his sister. “I’m glad to hear that’s she okay. How do you guys like being ninja?” 

“Honestly…” Kai trails off, seemingly searching for words as the two of you linger in the back. “At first, I was only doing it so I could rescue her. But…after we got her back, the thought of returning to the shop just…filled me with dread. I knew I couldn’t go back to the way I was living. Being a ninja is way more fulfilling for me. We get to travel, meet new people from all over Ninjago, fly on our dragons, fight for the greater good…and that’s all I need.” 

“Wow. That sounds…perfect,” you mumble, mulling over his words. 

He nods in agreement. “It really is. I think you’ll like working with us. My sister’s going to love you; as well as we all get along, I think she gets sick of us sometimes. But you’ll know for sure after a week or so. Though, you never know – you might get sick of us.” 

You snicker at this, shaking your head. “I won’t get sick of you. Honestly…it’s been nice having you guys around, even for such a short time. I’ve never felt so…” 

“Engaged? Not in a haze of repetition?” he finishes with a knowing smirk. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“That’s how I felt too, working with the guys for the first time. It’s safe to say that’s a good sign.” 

You nod, the two of you walking back towards the hallway. Once you’re there, you hand him the tea box. “I think so too.” 

Kai smirks, thanking you before starting back towards the recovery ward. On his way back, he calls: 

“Besides…how else are you going to keep making fun of Cole?” 

… 

The day passes with you dining alongside the ninja again – this time with Mystake. You notice that she’s uncharacteristically quiet through the event, causing you to make a mental note to ask her about it later. 

Cole’s injury is healing faster than you’d thought it would. Mystake’s antiseptic solution combined with a new tea made for a speedy recovery. At this rate, he’d be up and walking come tomorrow. 

As such, the team is preparing to leave. Watching them restlessly discuss what they’d do when they return made you realize your time in the tea shop is drawing to a close. 

And it simultaneously excites and terrifies you. 

While you lay in bed that night, you wonder if this is how Kai felt when he left to become a ninja. He had said he’d been scared. Somehow, that comforts you. Even someone as confident as him got scared too. 

Late into the night, though, your mind gets tired of worrying. Instead, you decide to get excited about trying something new. 

That thought makes you smile as you drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

… 

It seems like you’d only been asleep for minutes when you jolt awake to the vibration of…something. It rocks the building, making your eyes widen. Was that an earthquake?! 

Another one shakes the shop, this time accompanied by…a roar? Your heart races at the noise, wondering what it could be. Especially at this hour – a glance outside tells you that it’s either very late or extremely early. 

Chills erupt across your skin as you exit your room, eyes searching for potential source as you make your way towards the front. It must have come from outside. 

Even before you open the door, you can hear voices outside. They don’t sound panicked at all, which makes you feel somewhat better as you push the door open. 

Immediately, you’re met with the crisp, morning breeze. It makes you shiver, wishing you’d thought to bring a jacket out beforehand. The sky is still dark and riddled with stars, leaving you to wonder what time it is. Regardless, you press on, looking up to see Kai, who is facing the alley and speaking lowly to something. A strange, red glow illuminates his figure. 

Cole, Jay, and Zane are towards the left side of the shop, all speaking quietly amongst themselves. Cole is back on his feet and seems to be doing okay. Even though it’s early, a sense of restlessness courses about the four. They must be ready to get back into action. 

Deciding that you’ve stared enough, you make your presence known. “Guys? Is everything okay?” 

The brunet is the only one to hear you, holding one of his arms out towards the alleyway. “Hey, morning. Sorry, did we wake you?” 

You shake your head, stepping a bit closer. “No, I just...heard something.” 

“Yeah...about that,” Kai lowers the hand that he’d held to the alleyway. “Those noises were our dragons. Sorry, we probably should have warned you guys beforehand. It just didn’t cross our mind.” 

“Dragons?” you repeat, glancing into the alley. “You guys have-” 

A pair of vibrant, neon orange eyes stare at you from the darkness, making you freeze. Out from the alley creeps a dragon. 

A growl rolls from its throat as it studies you, its red head flecked with streaks of orange. Unfurling from its sides are a pair of brilliant red wings that exude a warm, red light. Its underbelly is protected by many rows of thick, orange bands that contrast against the darkened red scales of its body. Beneath the bands, you can see red patches swirling with energy. 

You take a step back, seeing Kai’s arm swing out in front of you when the dragon steps towards you. It snarls again, giving you a mean glare. 

“Stop being an asshole,” Kai scolds, stepping up to the beast while glaring at it. It lowers its snout, allowing Kai to pet it. “It’s okay, boy. She’s a friend.” 

“You...have a dragon?” you question incredulously, heart racing as you study the creature. Its – his? - eyes flutter shut at Kai’s touch, wings furling in so that he doesn’t appear as massive. 

 “Yep. We all do,” Kai replies, gesturing behind you. You spin tentatively, breath hitching as you see three more accompanying each of the ninja. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, anxiety snowballing into excitement as you take your time studying each of them. “They’re...they’re beautiful. I never thought that I’d get to see one in person...” 

“Wanna pet him?” Kai offers, hand lingering on his dragon’s neck. “Though, fair warning, everyone else except me says that he’s hot to the touch. Not hot enough to burn yourself, but hotter than you’d expect.” 

You nod in acknowledgement, cautiously lifting your hand. The dragon doesn’t flinch, trusting in his master as you gently place your hand flat against his snout. A grumble rumbles throughout his body, seemingly okay with your touch. Through your legs, you can feel the vibrations of the growl. This has to be what woke you up. 

“Wow...” you say, noting that Kai was right – the scales are burning up. It’s almost like they’re containing a full-on wildfire underneath. “Why’s he so hot?” 

“He’s a fire dragon. He was guarding the Sword of Fire when we found him,” Kai explains, smiling softly as he strokes the side of the dragon’s snout. “Same story with the others and their weapons. We realized we needed to fight alongside them, not against them.” 

“Did you guys name them?” you wonder, glancing back at Kai. 

“Yeah. Flame.” 

“Hi, Flame,” you mumble, smiling at the dragon. He huffs softly in response, small columns of smoke puffing from his nostrils. You feel like you’re standing in front of a bonfire; you don’t have to be terribly close to experience the warmth emanating from his body. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Kai chuckles, taking his hand off of Flame. “He likes you.” 

“I...I’m at a loss for words. This is the coolest thing ever...” you trail off, slowly taking your hand off of Flame as well. The fire dragon shifts so that he’s laying down, snout dropping to rest on the grass. You're reminded of a sleepy puppy. 

Jay’s is the next dragon you greet. 

“Meet Wisp!” Jay introduces, telling your name to the dragon even though he can’t talk. Wisp tilts his head, curiosity flashing in his electric eyes. This dragon is a gorgeous shade of blue, built similarly to Flame with one exception. If you had to guess, you’d say that Wisp is sleeker – made for speed. Wisp also appears to be friendlier than Flame. 

“Wisp. That’s an adorable name,” you compliment, smiling as you approach the dragon. “Hello, Wisp!” 

You tentatively reach your hand out, giggling when Wisp bumps his forehead against the palm of your hand, eager to be pet. Jay grins at the interaction. 

Unlike Flame, you swear Wisp’s scales are tingling with underlying magic. Electricity tickles your skin, making you pull away from the dragon with a giggle. 

“He’s tickly, isn’t he? Poor guy can’t help it; he’s always emitting a low amount of electricity,” Jay explains, gently scratching Wisp in a specific spot under his chin. Wisp hums in content, leaning into Jay’s touch. 

“That’s amazing,” you reply, smiling at Wisp before turning to the next dragon. 

This one is Rocky – Cole's dragon. This guy is certainly the bulkiest of the four, with scales that feel like rock underneath your fingertips. He seems to be made to take and deliver hits. 

“Hi,” you say softly, carefully scratching the area above his nose. Rocky nuzzles his snout against your palm, eager to receive more pets. 

“Oh, you’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?” you coo, watching as the dragon closes his eyes. 

Cole pushes himself off against the wall he’d been leaning on, adorning a disbelieving expression. “Are you kidding me?” 

“What?” you wonder. 

“He’s usually a jerk,” Cole grumbles, glaring at Rocky. You’re not fluent in dragon expressions, but you have a feeling that Rocky is taunting Cole somehow. “He’s always pushing us around, not...cuddling us! What’s your deal, man?!” 

“I think it’s because you’re mean to him,” you retort, laughing when Rocky bumps his snout against your arm. You realize he wants more pets, so you oblige without complaint. 

“Or because he’s a baby!” Jay calls, earning a laugh from Kai. 

Cole rolls his eyes, stepping beside you to pet the dragon as well. You take note of how Cole’s eyes soften upon seeing his dragon. The sight makes you wonder what kind of bond they have, and how it came to be. 

“And now they’re never going to let me live that down. See what you’ve done?” Cole says, turning to you with a smirk. 

“I don’t feel too bad,” you retaliate before moving to the last dragon. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, directing your question to Zane. He’d been sitting quietly alongside the icy blue and white dragon, which is laying down behind him. 

“His name is Shard,” Zane answers, tone soft as he glances up at you. “And I must apologize...he does not like being touched by people he doesn’t know very well. I imagine he will come around in a few weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s okay. I understand.” You smile, studying the dragon a bit longer. You decide to leave him alone for the time being, instead swiveling around to face the other ninja. 

The other two dragons have settled for the morning too, all laying down. Kai and Jay are near the front of the shop now, the two speaking quietly. Zane joins them a few moments later. 

Cole steps beside you, watching the three before answering your unasked question: “I think they’re going to try to get a quick sparring session in before we go. They need to loosen up and let some energy out.” 

“You’re sitting out, right?” you inquire, eyes narrowing in concern. 

“Yeah. I know the cut finally closed all the way, but it still hurts,” he comments. 

“Good. I know that stuff healed your wound pretty well, but Mystake is still putting the finishing touches on that particular formula. So just...take it easy for a few more days, then you can go back to crimefighting and whatnot.” 

“Are you saying you used me as a test subject?” Cole replies, crossing his arms as Jay gestures towards a small clearing across the shop. It’s grassy and spacious – perfect for a spar. You and Cole follow the three there, standing towards the side as Kai and Zane get into position. 

“We try our new teas and potions on ourselves before anyone else,” you say. Just from observing their stances, you can already see how differently these guys fight from each other – Kai's stance is loose, and he’s staying mobile while remaining focused on Zane. The white ninja, on the other hand, adopts a more formal version of Kai’s. He’s not as jittery as Kai, but he’s studying Kai. Watching, and waiting. 

“And then you just...perfect them as time goes on?” Cole wonders, the two of you watching as Kai launches an attack. 

“Pretty much. Once you understand the base recipes, and how different ingredients affect the base, it’s easy to come up with what you need. So, there’s not much risk in involved.” 

“I see,” Cole trails off, cringing when Zane exploits an opening Kai failed to notice. The white ninja lands a kick on Kai’s torso, eliciting a curse from the red ninja. 

“Ouch,” you hiss, your ribs hurting just from watching them. “How do you guys do this? And enjoy it?” 

“It pays off in its own way,” Cole replies with a shrug. “The risk is part of the thrill for us.” 

“I think you guys are just crazy,” you mumble, eyeing the fight. 

Your statement makes Cole laugh, the ninja unfolding his arms as he turns towards you. “You know, most people just call us noble. Or brave. Heroic, even.” 

“I’m sure; I’m just not much of an ass-kisser.” 

“And that’s exactly why she needs to be our medic,” Kai calls, he and Jay laughing at the exchange. 

“I am not familiar with the act of ass-kissing,” Zane says, he and Kai stopping their match. “Is it in a literal or figurative sense? And why is imperative that our medic does not kiss ass?” 

The white ninja’s remark cracks Kai and Jay up. Zane’s expression leaves you feeling a little bad for him, though. 

You lean over to Cole again, making sure they aren’t listening as you ask your next question. “Is he always that dense?” 

“Yep. Don’t get me wrong...he’s really smart, but stuff like this always flies over his head,” he answers before walking towards the others and answering Zane’s query.  

“Figuratively, Zane. An ass-kisser or kiss-ass is someone who sucks up to someone else. It’s usually to win approval or favors; it depends on the context. And it’s not a required quality of a medic, but personally, I think it’s more fun that way.” 

“She’ll be able to see right through our bullshit,” Kai adds. “She’ll do her job, but won’t baby us.” 

Jay pulls himself up from his previous sitting position, stepping over to the group and adding: “Although, she’s not opposed to calling people babies.” 

"Ah. I see now,” Zane says. “Thank you for the explanation.” 

A silence sweeps over the five of you, partnered with a sudden chilly breeze. You turn around to have another glance at the dragons, watching as they all nap peacefully. A few onlookers have gathered towards the end of the street, ogling the dragons with hushed murmurs. 

“We should probably get going soon,” Kai notes upon seeing the crowd. “Wouldn’t want to affect Mystake’s customer flow with our dragons.” 

“Yeah,” Cole agrees. “We can strap your stuff to Rocky. He’s probably the best suited to carry extra weight.” 

You nod in response, realizing that this is the last morning you’ll spend here for at least two weeks – more if the job goes as well as you think it will. A pit funnels into your stomach, hands twiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

“Okay,” you finally say, turning back towards the ninja. “I’m gonna go talk to Mystake, then.” 

Cole nods, bits of understanding flickering in his eyes. “Take your time.” 

You smile appreciatively, leaving the group and passing by the snoozing dragons. The bell chimes as you enter the shop, seeing Mystake at the register. 

A glance at the clock tells you that the shop has roughly forty-five minutes until opening, giving you a bit of time to say your goodbyes. 

The elderly woman looks up at you once you approach, smiling as you greet her. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“Good morning, dearie,” Mystake says, expression softening as she glances out the window to look at the ninja. “I suppose today’s the day, isn’t it?” 

You nod. “Yeah...it is.” 

She steps around the counter, hand coming to clasp around yours. “Come with me. I need to give you something.” 

Your mentor guides you towards your room, where your packed belongings lay. On top of your bed is a canvas bag. You note that’s it is your favorite color, complete with a crossbody strap, several pockets, and metal clasps. It looks to be built for durability and function – the straps are thicker than you’d expect to find on a regular bag. 

“I’ve prepared this for you,” she starts, sitting on the edge of your bed. You do the same, settling in across from her. “I’m glad you’ll be working with Wu. I always give him a hard time, but he’s a good man. And, since I’ve known him for so long, I had an idea of what you should bring.” 

With that, Mystake tugs the bag into her lap, snapping the clasps open. “This bag contains everything you’ll need to get started.” 

The first object she pulls out is a wooden box – it's handcrafted and painted your favorite color, decorated with floral engravings along the sides. “This box is filled with your basic teas and potions. There should be enough for two weeks. Should you decide to stay with them, I’ve made something else for you.” 

Mystake sets the box aside, hands delving back into the bag to reveal a handcrafted leather journal. The cover is black, painted with pink and purple symbols that seem familiar somehow. The pages are thick and gray, like a stormy sky. 

“This is a copy of my recipe book. Every potion and tea you’ve ever crafted under my guidance can be found here – with the exception of my secret ones, of course. There are also a few blank pages in the back so you can create your own, too.” 

Then, Mystake tilts the bag towards you. You peer inside, seeing various basic medical supplies – bandages, gauze, simple over-the-counter medicines. It looks like enough for two weeks as well. “And, lastly, traditional medical supplies. Enough for the duration of your stay." 

With that, Mystake repacks the bag and sets it aside. 

Your eyes are watering slightly as you stare at the bag, watching as she snaps the clasps shut. “Mystake...I don’t know what to say. I...” 

She chuckles, taking your hands in hers. Wrinkled, steely gray eyes peer at you from underneath her straw hat, just as glassy as yours.  

“It’s okay, because I already understand how you feel. I know what you want to say. I was in your position once, after all. I was standing before my family in my homeland, about to travel into this world so I could fulfill my duty. But I never could have imagined what awaited me in a Ninjago – a land where I could live a mundane life, set up a silly old tea shop. A land where I had the blessing to train one of the brightest pupils that I’ve ever mentored.” She pauses, squeezing your hands. “I’m so proud of you.” 

That does it. You sniffle, letting yourself cry. “You are?” 

“Of course I am,” she mumbles. “You’ve come such a long way since the day I found you. And now you’re preparing to work on your own…” 

“Mystake…” You’re unable to finish your sentence as you envelope her in a hug – the woman who’d taken you in, mentored you. “You…you have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you.” 

Her arms coil tighter still around your figure, and against your arms you can feel the scratchy wool of her handknitted sweater. An herbal scent floods your senses as you soak it in, knowing this will be the last time you smell it in a while. 

It would forever remind you of her. 

“I’m honored I got the chance to mentor you, and get to know you as a young lady. You’re going to do incredible things. The world is yours, dearie; grab it by the neck and throttle it!” 

You giggle, already knowing that you’re going to miss her eccentric self. “I won’t ever be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me. All I can say is: thank you, Mystake. I’m going to do all I can to make you proud. I’m forever grateful for your hospitality and mentorship.” 

“You’ve already made me proud. I know you’re going to be amazing. You’ll be the best damned medic in Ninjago, you hear me? Now get out there and make it happen. They’re waiting for you.” 

With those parting words, Mystake stands, pulling the bag she’d prepared into her arms. “Ready?” 

You make sure you have your bags before nodding, glancing around your room one last time. Without your belongings scattered about the room, it seems far too empty. Your eyes soften as you study the area, heart aching when you realize you won’t be coming back to sleep here again for a while. 

Despite your reluctance, you smile, mumbling a soft “thank you” to the room that had sheltered you for all of those years. 

A sigh escapes you as you turn, following Mystake out of the shop. 

The sun is higher in the sky now, and the dragons seem to be reenergized. Jay and Wisp are play fighting where Kai and Zane had been sparring earlier; Cole is fussing over Rocky while Kai is adjusting a saddle on Flame. Zane and Shard are still sitting together, watching the others struggle. 

“You rapscallions better treat my pupil well,” Mystake grumbles, eyeing the crowd still ogling the dragons. “We can hurt just as well as we can heal-” 

“Mystake,” you interrupt, chuckling as Jay’s eyes widen. “It’s going to be just fine.” 

“Here, let me take those for you,” Cole replies, reaching for your bags. You oblige, grinning softly at him as you hand them to him. 

“Thank you,” you reply, watching as he sets them on Rocky’s back. Kai approaches once he’s done, holding a mix of ropes and bungee cords. 

The two set about strapping your luggage to the dragon, making sure that they’re secure before asking Rocky to move around a little. After a few adjustments have been made, Cole nods in approval. 

“Alright, I think we’re about set,” Cole notes, glancing around at the others. “Who’s gonna take Wu back?” 

“I can,” Kai answers, the four grouping together as Sensei Wu emerges from the store. 

“Alright. Then I guess we’re headed back to the monastery, then,” Cole replies. The others nod in agreement, preparing to board their dragons. The black ninja takes a moment to double check the bags before turning to you. 

His green eyes sparkle in the morning light, lips quirking into a soft smile. “Anything else you need to do before we take off?” 

You don’t answer immediately, instead turning towards Mystake again. Wordlessly, you loop your arms around her neck. 

She returns your embrace, voice soft in your ear as she says: “I’m going to miss you, but I’m glad you’re pursuing your dream. Remember what I said. Take care, dear. I’m always here if you need me.” 

“Thank you. I’m going to miss you too.” 

She pulls away from you, lips pressed together tightly as she releases you. “Now go.” 

For a moment, your throat tightens with the things you want to say to her. Despite this, you hesitate, realizing that she already knows what you want to say. 

With that, you turn back towards the ninja before you, glancing up at him through glassy eyes. 

“Okay,” you murmur, nodding briskly. “I’m ready.” 

Always happy to read fresh requests. Read my guidelines before submitting, please!

Masterlist for this Fic

[ceilidho]

Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

[the-hopeless-haze]

I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

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“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

[lowkeyrobin]

hello:))

been loving ur mcyt preferences, and was wondering if you would do one where reader has insomnia???

I take medication for it and i got took off it for a break UGHH. anyways luv ur writing and take ur time plz:))

ooooo okay!! ; and thank you thank you, I appreciate it 🫶🫶🫶

MCYT ; insomniac/night owl

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, & quackity

warnings ; language, sleep paralysis, jokes about OD'ing (melatonin)

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

genuinley feels so bad bc the second he closes his eyes, he's passed the hell out

he'll try and stay awake with you though and wait for the melatonin or just sleep in general to kick in

"if you're too tired to work, then don't. go back to sleep, don't worry about it"

compares you to tubbo 24/7

will bring you cherries and some milk because natural melatonin ❗️❗️

sometimes he'll try and stay awake with you and turn a movie on and he'll just pass out on your shoulder

you'll walk into his stream after sleeping until like 5 in the evening and quietly wave with a groggy look on your face

he laughs (in a very lighthearted way dw)

"y/nnnnn I know you're tired but we gotta go before we miss it"

"I'm coming, I'm coming"

you're basically just a night owl, like his personal guard dog lmao

he'll joke about it a bit too, how you're protecting him in the dark from the monsters 😭

RANBOO

he can and will stay up all night with you

mostly plays video games with you in hopes you'll get tired that way

which works a bit

does insane amounts of research, gets you eating all sorts of natural melatonin before bed and even gets you like children's melatonin gummies 💀💀

"do you have a sleep paralysis demon? are you just scared to sleep?"

"I just cannot sleep, I just toss and turn all night, I swear to god"

one of those people to do endless amounts of research to try and help

"do you wanna go to the doctor and get a prescription or something? maybe it'll help"

tweeting/posting about dumb shit you do at night

"y/n made a whole loaf of bread overnight someone send help"

"tell me why I woke up this morning to my partner staring into my soul holy shit"

FREDDIE BADLINU

also feels rlly bad that he can't help you

also brings you cherries, bananas and milk for natural melatonin in hopes it'll help a bit

will genuinley take you to a doctor to get you a prescription or something

also tweets about the shit you do while he's asleep overnight

"guys y/n picked up crocheting overnight wth"

"love when my partner wakes me up at 5am for breakfast because it was going cold 🥰 (they started cooking at 3:30am)

he can't stay up too late most days, he's a busy man

he feels so bad if you're sleeping through the whole day, he barely ever wakes you up bc he knows you're tired

"love, go back to sleep, you were up all night, I'll call you in sick, don't worry about it"

he strays away from od jokes when you're taking melatonin gummies/pills but sometimes he just has to say it

if you have a sleep paralysis demon as well, yk damn well he'll find his way into your dreams and beat the bitch up

if you can't sleep but he can, he'll just hold you and hope that you'll sleep soon

you'll usually sit there and play with his hair and admire him til you gotta get up and do something

NIKI NIHACHU

like ranboo, she puts in endless research of just trying to find things that might help you

she feels so bad

especially when you're sleeping all through the day and feel groggy as hell 24/7

if you have a paralysis demon she always reassures you that she'll beat it up for you next time it comes around

anything to make you smile bro

she's so sweet about it, if you're sleeping she makes sure to keep it quiet because this is one of the rare chances when you're sleeping

if you go multiple days without sleep and start tweaking out, she'll comfort you to sleep, doesn't matter how long it'll take

"It's okay, honey. it's okay, just focus on the rain sounds outside"

dedicated a whole kinda calm music playlist to help you sleep/relax yourself

finds it so funny when you do shit during the night to try and entertain yourself and it's the most random shit

like you'll go out and feed stray cats, accidently steal a shopping cart, fight the air and record it, etc

sleepy on stream hugs >>>

"well good morning, sunshine. its seven pm"

ALEX QUACKITY

"bro how do you not sleep"

if you got a sleep paralysis demon.... oh it's over for that mf

tweets about the dumb exhausted shit you do

"how do I turn y/n off at bedtime? I'm tired of waking up to see them staring into my soul"

"I love waking up to breakfast (I've been woken up at 4am for the past 2 weeks help me rn)"

thinks it's funny and sad at the same time when you start tweaking after not sleeping

"bro, go to sleep, cmon, it's okay, you're fine" as he's trying not to laugh at you

literally stuffs you with melatonin around 7:30 to see if it'll help LMAO

even talks on stream about how he's gonna fight the demons and pretends whoever he's fighting w is one LMAO

loves when you walk into stream all groggy and tired because he can finally spend a little time w you

[ahbts]

Kinktober day 13: Jegulus - Wet Dream || NSFW || Words: 640|| Tags: Medical AU(sort of) - Resident/Doctor - Lingerie - rimming (Day 9 and 27 of @jeguluskinktoberr)

The way he is walking over to James is making his head stuffy. He walks across the hall in that white lab coat, clipboard in hand and an innocent look on his face. It’s insane how the boy looks so good in hospital clothes. No one should look this good. 

“Head surgeon Potter, you asked for my assistance?” The sweet voice asks him as the boy reaches his desk. James quickly stands, feeling his own surgical scrubs getting tighter as he looks the boy up and down, from the curls on his head to the crocks on his feet, he still looks like walking sex. 

“Uhm, yes,” James walks around the desk and leans against his as he regards the resident with the sternest look he can muster. “Dr. Lupin is indisposed and we need a set of hands on the kidney transplant, do you think you are up to it?” 

The boy looks at his clipboard before flinging it away and stepping in between James’ legs. “You tell me, Doctor, do you think I am ready?” The long neck stretches up to meet James in the perfect height difference. He feels a hand under his scrubs, touching his stomach and finding a nipple to pinch. 

James lets out a moan and pulls the boy closer. “I don’t know, maybe I can use some convincing?” 

The boy steps closer even and takes James’ bottom lip into his mouth, biting down and dragging it out as he steps back. The lab coat is gone and instead, the boy is wearing lingerie. A thong of deep burgundy lace, with matching garter straps holding up black meshing stockings that match the long-sleeved shrug top. James lets his eyes roam over the whole look and feels his mouth water. 

“Would this help?” the boy asks in a sultry tone, turning around slowly, which makes his black high heels click on the ground. “Doctor.” 

James grabs onto the boy's arm and makes him turn back around. “That will work perfectly.” 

He pulls the boy behind him, bending him over the desk and squatting down behind him. Pushing the lace aside he flicks his tongue over the small, tight, hole he had been imagining since the boy started his residency under him. 

“Oh, you taste as sweet as you sound, baby,” James tells the boy, slipping his thumb into the hole and stretching it with the digit as well as his tongue. 

“Please, Dr. Potter, I think I’m ready now,” the boy croons in a high tone. 

James stands, pulling down the thong quickly and pulling himself out of his pants. He is already so incredibly hard that he will come the second he enters the boy's tiny hole. He thrusts in with one easy thrust and groans in ultimate pleasure. 

“Doctor,” the boy moans, in a lower voice than before but James can hear him clearly. “Doctor?” This time it’s a question and James shakes his head not fully understanding what is happening. 

“Doctor Potter?” 

James blinks his eyes open as quickly as he can, feeling the paper stuck to his face and the crick in his neck from having fallen asleep on his desk for the umpteenth time that week. He smacks his lips, feeling his dry mouth before looking up and meeting the emerald green eyes that he had just seen in his dream. 

Oh fuck. 

He feels the wetness in his pants, realising what is happening as he meets Regulus Black’s eyes. 

“Dr. Black, I’m sorry that was highly unprofessional of me,” James apologises quickly, excusing his sleep habits. “Did you have a question?” 

The boy smiles at him, shaking his head but there is a twinkle in his eye that makes James’ spend cock twitch hopefully. “No, I just wondered if you wanted to grab a coffee, it looks like you need it?”

[olderthannetfic]

Can I poke the bear for a moment and get angry? Because I'm seeing "posting as activism" more and more in fandom spaces, and tonight I saw a post that made me lose it.

There is a post about (current events) going around that says, "full offense, but in this time, your own comfort doesn't fucking matter, you should be uncomfortable about things that are happening, and I hope you can fucking live with yourselves if you are quiet. It takes five seconds to retweet or reblog, fuck your aesthetic, fuck your anything aesthetic."

And my god. How dare they.

Yes, there is severely fucked up shit happening. Yes, people should be aware that people are being killed. Yes, there are people who are just shrugging about it and pissing off. But how does reblogging a post certify someone as Good or Bad? How does this person know that someone hasn't already helped out meaningfully in some way, or is still helping out, but on other websites? How does this person know that someone isn't barely holding on by the skin of their teeth, and they would have a mental breakdown if they got closer to any more stressful things?

I know a multitude of people, including myself, who have recently either needed to call lines, check into facilities, move back in with their parents, or go on medication because of how insane things have become in their own lives. How does this person not understand that blogging; being on tumblr; engaging in fandom, having a small space that someone can control in its entirety, is a reprieve for people who are already at their wit's end outside of that space? And that's okay.

(We are not doing the relative privation shit in this house. I refuse to entertain that.)

Ironically, by insisting that people participate in sharing posts when they're already stressed and exhausted, that's a surefire way to make their problems worse, and potentially prevent them from acting helpfully in the future because suddenly, their exhaustion turns into full-blown burnout. That's how it works. Professionals tell you to dial things back if you are too overwhelmed. There is a reason for that. There is a limit to how much people can mentally process and handle. Compassion fatigue exists. For a lot of us, we are already at our limit. We need space to relax, and not have arbitrary obligations thrown on us. That is not our fault, it is not a character flaw, it does not mean we are bad people. And just because horrific things are happening elsewhere, it does not mean we can, or should, stop taking care of ourselves first. Yes, it feels shitty to think, "you know what, I can't reblog this". You bet your ass that I and my friends feel guilty about not being able to engage as much as we think we should, but that is how it goes. I can put my head underwater for a bit. But I cannot keep my head underwater forever. I will drown.

Not to mention the obvious part: guilt-tripping people to the extent of implying they are somehow contributing to genocide, just because they won't reblog a post, and implying they should not be able to live with themselves if they do that, is beyond revolting.

I am angry, and I am not sorry.

--

So many of those kinds of posts—and they turn up during every set of horrific real world events—sound like people who are in a country far away from the events, diaspora at most but probably just randos, venting their impotent rage because it's the only way they can feel productive in a situation where nothing they can do is productive.

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P8

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

Everyone was panicking. Alex was out of his car pacing back and forth in the Audi garage as Lily tried to calm him down. They refused to show the reply or any current footage of what was going on. But Lily had seen it live and even she was struggling to not cry herself.

Lando was sat with his head in his hands, crying over the reason for such a bad crash. He wouldn't forgive himself, no matter how bad the crash had been, even if you just came out with a small scrape. You were on track to winning the race as well. Not that that really mattered as your unconscious self was being hauled out of the burning car that had started to catch alight when the fuel tank burst and leaked.

One courageous marshal managed to pull you out, as they were pulling you out they weren't thinking about any broken bones they just wanted to get you out the car.

They laid you down on the floor, not taking your helmet of but flipping the visor up to see if you were awake, which of course you weren't.

They held your wrist looking for a heartbeat screaming for a medic to come over and help you. In record speed time, emergency services had managed to get a helicopter to airlift you to the best hospital in Belgium.

When the drivers saw the helicopter fly off, they could tell it was a bad crash, not that they couldn't tell before but the fact you needed to be airlifted had them worrying.

Lando was near close to being sick, Oscar at his side rubbing his back as he dry-heaved into a bin.

"Oh my god, I've killed my best friend" he cried and Oscar right now had no idea what to actually say to him.

"No you haven't, she's going to be okay!" Oscar says rubbing his crying friends back.

Charles was num, he didn't know what to think and he actually couldn't talk to Carlos. Was this his fault... no it was the rain, and your team, and your radio, and your car, and Lando's fault and he was so terribly angry when he thought about it fully.

Joris had talked him out of the abyss that was Charles mind and the whirlpool of thoughts he was flowing down. He told him off when Charles started to angrily play the blame game, explaining it wasnt anyone's fault and that you knew the risks of racing.

The race wasn't continued, with only two laps to go. Lando won, Lewis in P2 and Charles in P3, that should have been your first race win and it was a dull celebration hearing your shared national anthem with Lando when it was supposed to be you up there.

He didn't do his usual champagne pop, none of them actually even popped the champagne just handing it off to their teams to enjoy who just passed it back as no one was really in the mood to drink.

Interviews were even more dull.

"Hello Charles, pleasure to have you here!" the interviewer smiles, trying their best to lighten the mood but you'd become such a presence around the paddock over the last few races that it was strange not having you around.

Charles just nods and she awkwardly looks down at her note pad.

"So obviously not a great race with the end there, but you had a spectacular race despite the rain and that long pitstop. Can you comment more on that?"

"Yeah, I think not only the drivers find working in those conditions tense and they want then best for you. Obviously the long pitstop had me loosing a few positions but like normal you just push harder and gain those places back, P3 was better than we hoped for and I shouldn't have been up on that podium today" he nods and his interview is wrapped up insanely quickly.

"Any last comments on Y/N, any insight on her condition and how she's doing?" she asks tentatively.

"No, sorry I don't!" he says with a grit in his teeth before his PR manager takes his arm and guides him away with a final nod to the interviewer saying this was over.

Lando and Alex couldn't even do any of their media duties, too upset by what happen to you that they went straight back to the hotel. Alex and Lily actually travelled to the hospital where you were at now with your family and personal trainer to see if they could find anything more out.

They arrived at the hospital in record time considering the one and a half hour drive it took to get from the race track to Brussels where you were being treated.

"Hi, we're looking for Y/N Y/L/N?" Lily asks knowing Alex had been a little choked up the whole time and could barley get his words out.

"Ah, yes are you immediate family?" she asks looking over the two of the with an eyebrow raised.

"No, but I'm her team-mate she's a race car driver and she" Alex blurts out only for the woman to interrupt him.

"Got into an accident at the race, I'm aware. Her family are on the 2nd floor outside a private suite near the trauma unit. You can go talk to them but there's no visitors in her room right now!" she exclaims and they both nod, running towards the lift to make their way up.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Alex choked out looking to Lily. He didn't know what to do if they came up and she wasn't okay.

"She's a strong girl, the halo did an amazing job protecting her. She'll be okay, I'm sure of it!" Lily say pulling her boyfriend in for a cuddle which he accepted nuzzling into her comforting smell.

The lift dinged and they stepped out, immediately stepped out seeing various doctors and nurses rushing around, even though it seemed like calm and organized rush.

They spot a group of people and your personal trainer, which Alex deducts easily that its your family. Both him and Lily tentatively walk over seeing your mother crying her eyes out into your father and your whole family looked the farthest thing from okay.

"Erm, hey" Alex smiles towards your personal trainer who also looks worried rubbing the back of his neck. Both your parents snap their head towards Alex, your mother immediately sobbing harder pulling him into a kind and gentle hug.

"Oh she loved driving with you so much, Alex right? She talked about you and how welcomed you made her feel!" she cries and Alex feels sickness building in his stomach and throat.

Your mother was using the past tense as if you were already dead and he didn't dare ask the question. He just continued holding your mum as she continued to cry.

Your father, who was trying hard to hold back his tears but ultimately was failing gave Alex a kind smile before reaching for his wife to pull her back.

"H-how is she?" Lily gulps, knowing Alex didn't have it in him to ask.

"Sh-she died on the way here apparently and she'd flatlined again once she was here. But she's in emergency surgery and their doing everything for her" her dad says and sighs not really knowing what else to do.

They all sit and wait, waiting for any news on your condition.

It felt like hours before a nurse and doctor cam trotting over to all of them.

"Family of Y/N Y/L/N?" she asks and looks around at each of them and your mum stands up grabbing your dads hand.

"Yes that's us, we are her parents" she says pointing between the two of them.

"Can we talk to you privately please?" she asks noticing the big group that included children.

"Alex, darling you should come with us so you can update her friends" your mum reaches out for him and he nods following the doctor into a private consultation room.

"So, is my daughter going to be okay?" your mum asks the pending question.

"We did everything we could, and she's a very strong girl considering her injuries. She'll be okay but she wont be racing for at least 3 months, might be the whole season depending on how much she pushes herself in physio therapy when she's up and moving" he smiles and your dad starts to fully sob hearing his little girl was going to be okay.

"What happened to her. Why did she flat line?" your mother asks.

"Her injuries were extensive. She fractured her spine, broke 3 ribs which caused her left lung collapsed which deprived her of oxygen. Which didn't help the minor head and neck injuries she suffered, and of course the fuel leak caused burns on her arms and legs" he listed of her extensive injuries that seemed to be non-stop.

"Holy shit" Alex admitted and took a seat.

"You can see her now, she's still under anesthetic and it wont ware off for a few hours but you can see her" he smiles and lets your family all hug before running out to the rest to tell them you were in fact okay.

Alex explained to Lily everything that happened and she also felt relieved. He asked if she was able to send a message to the Whatsapp chat while he got a drink of water to try and calm his heart rate down.

He ended up talking them through your condition and the fact that only your immediate family were allowed in right now but he and Lily could go in after and that your parents had expressed that they were all more than welcome to come see you.

All of them agreed that they would of course come and see you tomorrow. Your family and Alex all tweeted about how you were doing and that they would ask you to make a video or statement when you were awake and with the world.

Everyone was just glad that you were alive... and were starting to plan their trip to come see you.

A/N: Y/N going to be out of racing until after the summer break? Oh no! ... what will she do!

Also my google search history is wild after this chapter where i had to look up the healing time for all her injuries....

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[mclarensangel]

Girls Night - Lando Norris x Chronic Pain! reader

warnings: chronic pain, feeling like a burden, gentle flirting between besties, McDonald's. let me know if you want me to add any warnings

What you didn't know was that Lando (and Oscar) were actually on their way back early to surprise you (and Lily of course). Lily knew the plan and was more than happy to spend some time with her best friend.

Knowing that your best friend was on her way to your flat, from hers a couple of floors down, you tried to get up off of the sofa. But a searing pain shot up your back making you yelp loudly. Letting yourself fall back onto the pillows to rest before you tried again, you felt your phone vibrate.

The texts between the two of you made you smile softly at your phone as you heard your front door unlocking. Moments later, Lily's face popped up by the door to the living room. "I'm gonna grab the quilt and pillows and then I'll be in," she told you before moving towards the storage room to grab the items. It was just mere moments before she was back in the room setting out the pieces onto the bed-like sofa. "so what shall we order for takeaway?" she asks once comfortable next to you. "what do you fancy?" you respond. Lily looks at you, wiggling her eyebrows as she responds with "you". This makes you laugh before holding onto your back as the pain returns with the movement. You turn your head to the blonde woman before responding "I wouldn't mind having you for dinner" trying to wink at her, but ultimately failing, making the pair of you giggle lightly. "McDonald's?" Lily suggested. Though you hadn't been friends for long, the two of you had become insanely close, becoming best friends in mere days when she moved to Monaco to the flat with Oscar just two floors down. You smiled at the woman, she had only seen you in a flareup once since moving here, the other flareups you had, you had hidden away from everyone except Lando as he had the short break between races. Another thing you didn't know was that Lando and Lily had been talking about you, she had been asking how to look after you best until he got back, and she had found out that you didn't eat much during a flareup. Hence the suggestion of McDonalds. "McDonald's" you agreed with the woman

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

ynusername posted to Instagram

ynusername: Congrats to my love @/landonorris for getting P2! I can't wait for you to get home so we can celebrate together <3. And a special thank you to my bestie @/ lilyzneimer for keeping me company. The last picture is me and the loml lils btw.

user1: what a terrible girlfriend you are for not even going to the race.

-> user2: exactly! I didn't want to be the first to say it but if I was Lando's gf I'd be at all the races!

-> Lilyzneimer: with your attitude Lando wouldn't even come near you, let alone date you.

-> user3: TELL THEM LILY

Lilyzneimer: I'm so proud of you, bestie. Beauty and the Beast next?

->ynusername: live action or cartoon?

-> Lilyzneimer: cartoon obviously.

-> user4: what do you even have to be proud of? Of a lazy, selfish woman who can't even go and support her boyfriend?

-> Lilyzneimer: not that she should have to tell her medical conditions (but I have her permission to say this), but I am proud of her for coping with Fibromyalgia, a chronic pain condition. She couldn't make it to this race, because of a flareup. Would you have rather she forced herself to go and make it worse? If she went but was in too much pain so she looked upset, you'd send her hate. But if she doesn't go to look after her health, you send her hate? She can't win. but her friends and family know her, we know her heart. and we love her

-> ynusername: lils! ilysm. marry me?

-> Lilyzneimer: wheres the ring?

After watching Princess and The Frog and Beauty and the Beast, you ended up putting Tangled on. Unfortunately, you had to take some stronger painkillers and these knocked you out. Lily didn't mind though, she snuggled down with her phone, messaging Oscar and Lando to see where they were.

Lily had to stifle her giggles to not wake up the sleeping woman next to her.

A couple of hours later, the two men crept into the apartment, assuming that the two women were asleep as neither had responded to any messages. Two men shared a look and a smile when they saw their girlfriends cuddled together on the sofa, asleep and content. Oscar made the first move, taking off his shoes, placing them by the front door, and leaving his bags in the spare room. opening up his bag he pulled some joggers and a t-shirt before moving to the bathroom to get changed. Lando followed his lead, placing his stuff in his wardrobe, and pulling on some quadrant shorts and a baggy t-shirt along with a hoodie of his that he knew you liked to steal. It took them men less than 10 minutes before they were both standing at the living room door again. They smiled briefly at each other before moving to settle in next to their girlfriends. Champagne and shots could wait, this was the best celebration.

[cerastes]

I’m thinking of how, in OpRec 2, Laurentina knows she has very limited time as herself before her brain deteriorates and she loses her reason again and becomes the “Specter” again. She has few precious hours as herself after years of being trapped in her own mind due to the experiments and the insane amount of pure liquid Originium Amaia and Quintus injected directly into her spinal cord.

She uses a bit of this time to spend it fighting a battle alongside Misery (who insisted she doesn’t need to help him but definitely welcomed the aid since apparently the situation was pretty bad), because in fighting, she can remain useful, in her own words. Skadi insists she hurry back to Rhodes Island, to which Specter says it’s pointless, because equipment on the surface simply cannot help her, only keep her alive, so she takes her sweet time fighting alongside Misery, and Skadi and Gladiia (the latter reluctantly) join.

She allots some more of her time to having a proper talk with Closure, answering as many questions as she can, both about herself and about Closure, but mainly, what she wanted to say was “do not change the way I’m treated. You know me as Specter, you have protocols around the Operator Specter. Retain them. I have to go.”

She talks with a very concerned Skadi and an unflinching but still upset Gladiia, but she already had time with them on the way back. The final person she wanted to talk to before her brain gave out again? Doctor. Explicitly because she predicted Closure and Doctor may take more care on her handling, maybe remove her from combat operations in order to more closely monitor her condition. This is exactly what she didn’t want.

Because end of the day, Laurentina is a Hunter. She finds it difficult to speak as surface dwellers do, she finds it almost nonsensical, and so, she demands, “Keep me in the fight, Doctor. We do not need words, we need only you having a clear objective and me, my orders. If you put me in a bed and out of the battlefield, you are denying me the last shred of identity I can cling on”.

Because she couldn’t sculpt, she couldn’t sing, she couldn’t even control her own body, if she was even conscious. The only thing that she could do to cling to being who she was...

...Is to at the very least be pointed towards an enemy to fight them, and pointed towards an ally to protect them.

Skadi believed Laurentina had died prior to the events of the game because this isn’t the first time she had done this: In order for the 3rd Squadron to advance towards Ishar’mla, the 2nd Squadron, Gladiia and Laurentina’s, practically sacrificed themselves covering for the 3rd. 

She never blamed Skadi, and makes sure she knows it. She didn’t mind doing it again now, either. “Point me at the one I have to cut, put the ones I need to keep safe behind me, and give the order. Even if am completely lost in the darkness of my mind and madness of my heart, that, that will never leave me. That’s proof that I am Specter, that I am Shark, and that I am Laurentina. I, namely, I.”

As far as she knew, these were the last words she’d ever get out as herself. She used to make it very clear: “Do not deny me the only bit of purpose and identity I have left, because even if I am but a shell of myself, I’m still me.”

Of course, we now know that this was not to be her final fate, and she did manage to regain control, decisively, eventually, but... As far as she and Skadi and Doctor knew, at this point, this was really, really it. The briefest of encounters with the real Specter, on borrowed time. And her intent? To make sure she’s not left to rot in a medical room where she’s useless, gathering dust: “Put even more danger upon my share”. You know you are dealing with a seriously terrifying and strong person when they can confidently tell you (and have verifiably, so far, done as much) that even if it’s just a shell of her former self out there, she can and will never stop doing exactly what she’s good at, because otherwise, at that point, she truly has left the world.